


Happy Fucking Birthday

by Zethsaire



Series: Dysfunction [8]
Category: DCU (Comics), Green Arrow (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Superman (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Under the Red Hood, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Dysfunctional Relationships, F/F, Insanity, Jason Todd Is A Fuck-up, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Multi, Other, Permanent Injury, Polyamory, Poor Life Choices, References to Drugs, Slice of Life, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:15:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1501481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zethsaire/pseuds/Zethsaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Dick's 30th birthday, and Tim makes Jason go, even though he wasn't invited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Fucking Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Match goes by "Van-El" in this fic; this is after Match chapter 6 (which will be posted soon I swear!) where Match takes that name.
> 
> Jason has severe mental illness, and doesn't go to therapy. He is *not* a good example of what you should do if you have a mental illness. He's a great example of what you shouldn't do.
> 
> There is a brief mention of a suicide attempt, and some language.

Happy Fucking Birthday

"Before you say anything, Jason's on new meds. He needs to be under observation for forty-eight hours."

Dick and Jason glared at each other, though Jason's glare was a little...lacking. "Is he high?"

"I'm not high." Jason scowled. (He totally was.) He thrust a slender, brightly colored package at Dick. "Happy fucking birthday. Where's the booze?"

Dick pointed. Not everyone at the party was of drinking age, so there were separate tables. Alfred was in charge of the food and drinks of course, because he wouldn't have it any other way. No one got away with underage drinking under Alfred's watch. Except Damian, for some reason. Alfred always let him have wine; something about Damian having a more cultured palette.

Jason took off towards the alcohol, and Dick looked down at package. "This isn't a bomb, is it?"

"No, Dick, it's not a bomb. He really is trying to be a better person, you know."

"Uh huh. I'll believe it when he stops running the slums."

"C'mon, Dick. He hasn't killed anyone in months. He's letting me help him find different meds, he's going to start coming to family dinners. Just give him a break, okay?"

Dick looked over at Jason, who was making small talk with Miss Martian, of all people. She seemed happy. He sighed.

"Alright, I'll try to be nice. He better have gotten me a good present."

Tim grinned. "I actually don't know what it is; I just know it's not a bomb."

"Oh, god, I hope it's not glow-in-the-dark condoms or something." That was the present Jason had given him for his eighteenth birthday, right before he'd died. "When's your other-other half getting here?"

"He's flying in with his family. Um. Van-El might be coming, too."

Dick bit back another sigh. "Luthor isn't coming, is he?" Because that's just what he needed; Superfamily domestics at Wayne Manor.

"I'm pretty sure no one's supposed to know they're together."

"Well Bruce knows, obviously. And I found out easily enough. They're not exactly discreet."

"Yeah well, you're also friends with Roy. But no, Luthor's not coming. He's not suicidal. Now don't you think you should stop lecturing me and enjoy your party?"

"I just want you to be happy, Tim."

"Look, Kori's here." Tim said, dryly, and Dick let himself be dragged off to his own party.

xxx

Everyone was having a disgustingly good time at Dick's party. Jason had sequestered himself in the corner of the grounds next to a decorative wall of shrubbery, where he could drink and be alone. His hands were still trembling, but Tim seemed confident that the tremors would subside after a few weeks on his new meds. They'd better, or he was going to get himself shot the next time he went on patrol. He felt - weird. The new drugs made him feel...relaxed without dulling his senses. He felt a lot more stable than he had in a while, and he'd actually slept for five hours straight last night, something he hadn't achieved without sedatives in years. Of course, anything was better than the complete head trip he'd been on the last week, when he'd stopped taking his meds completely because the shaking had gotten so bad he couldn't hold his gun any more. Stopping any kind of medication quickly was a bad idea, but Jason hadn't really been prepared for what stopping a high dose of anti-psychotics was like.

He'd nearly murdered both his boyfriends, and had come way too damn close to offing himself. He still had a scar going from his wrist all the way up his arm, because Kon had panicked and flown him up to get healed by his creepy grandpa AI, who'd insisted on leaving a scar for Jason to remember 'what an idiot he'd been' by. Speaking of which, he probably shouldn't be drinking, even if he was only drinking shitty beer. Also, why the hell had Alfred stocked such shitty beer in the first place unless - He looked at the label. Non-alcoholic beer. Of fucking course.

"Is everything to your satisfaction, master Jason?"

Sneaky old bastard. "Hey, Alfred."

The butler was smiling at him. Jason still had issues with Bruce and Dick, and well, pretty much everyone actually. But he couldn't be angry at Alfred. The man was too kind, too thoughtful. No one resisted Alfred, not even Bruce. Jason liked that about the man.

"I don't suppose I could persuade you to get me some real alcohol, could I?"

"I'm afraid that would be impossible, master Jason."

Jason nodded. He'd thought as much. "Well. I don't suppose you have any non alcoholic beer that's...less terrible, do you?"

Alfred smiled again. "I think that could be arranged."

He disappeared for a few minutes, and Jason looked out over the crowd, taking a swig of his awful not-beer. Waste not, right? It looked like the Superfamily was here, though Kon hadn't come over to see him yet. He was talking animatedly to Roy, who looked a little uncomfortable, but was handling himself well. He was wearing the prosthetic Van-El had made for him, and it looked good. It was hyper realistic - if not for the joint at the elbow, you'd never know it was fake - and it was covered in tattoos; tribal and swirling animal designs things that probably had significance to Roy but that just looked badass to anyone else. Van-El was over talking to Damian, which was still weird. Van-El didn't have friends and neither did Damian, but they got along frighteningly well. Van-El wasn't wearing his sunglasses or his using his cane, but he had brought his dog, who was wrestling with Titus, both of them rolling around and barking happily.

Bruce was talking to Clark, who was trying to look nonchalant in everyday clothes that were definitely not flannel and failing miserably. It looked like Luthor had dressed him; expensive shirt, nice slacks, good shoes, and his clothes actually showed off how muscular he was. And people said Jason's relationships were dysfunctional. Clark looked relieved when Diana came over and started talking to both of them.

At some point, Alfred had come back, because there was a plate of food covered in all of Jason's favorites, a smaller plate of oatmeal cranberry cookies which he knew for a fact no one else liked, and an ice bucket with half a dozen chilled, much better non alcoholic beers and a bottle of milk for the cookies. And that was why Jason loved Alfred, even if it bothered him that he hadn't seen the man come or go. Jason started with the cookies first, because dessert was the best part of a meal, and if he ended up getting nauseous he'd still have eaten what he really wanted. Not that these meds were making him nauseous yet, but Jason was finding it hard to believe Tim could have come up with something that eased all his symptoms.

Jason could tell the moment Oliver Queen arrived, because Roy went rigid and Van-El broke off mid conversation with Damian to go stand by his lover. Disaster was averted by Black Canary and Oracle arriving at the same time, and Dinah cut Oliver off before he could do something stupid, like pick a fight with a Super clone. Van-El abhorred Oliver, and would have no problems putting the other man in the hospital. Clark was the only one who stood a remote chance of stopping him without Kryptonite, too, since Van-El was by far the stronger of the two clones.

Barbara wheeled over to Roy and Van-El and helped distract them, and the tension slowly eased. As long as Babs didn't come over and start talking to him, everything would be fine. Actually, he wanted to avoid all the Bat girls, because they had all taken an unhealthy interest in his relationship with Tim. Stephanie usually appeared jealous, which was ridiculous because Jason knew he was still seeing her on the side, while Barbara gave him the death glare and talked about protection and security and made barely veiled threats about surveillance, like Jason didn't have enough trouble sleeping. Cass - Cass just seemed too damn interested in everything. He was not anyone's sexual guru. Corrupting the youth was all fun and games until one of them was actually interested in it. But he needn't have worried. They were all talking to their friends, taking the rare chance to actually talk to other female super heroes and basically ignoring Jason's existence, which was just fine.

Tim was discreetly watching him, which Jason didn't mind. He leered back openly, because Tim was wearing those damn jeans. He knew what those jeans did to Jason and he wore them anyway, showing his ass off to everyone in the place. If he hadn't kept looking over at Jason, he might've been jealous. It was more than likely that Tim would have a hookup before the end of the party. That kid had balls. No way was Jason screwing anyone while Clark was in the same zip code.

"You smell like Tim and Kon. Why do you smell like that?"

"Jesus!" Jason jumped about six inches, almost dropped his beer bottle, caught it, went for his gun, remembered Tim had taken it, went for his _knife_ , remembered where he was, and put his trembling hand carefully down at his side.

A fucking bird was talking to him. Well, more like a _robin_ actually, except it was fucking green. What the hell kind of drugs had Tim given him? And then the bird shifted into a green monkey boy and Jason called himself six kinds of idiot. Beast Boy, of fucking course.

"Hey." The kid actually _pokes_ him. Jason can feel the muscles in his jaw jump as he resists going for his knife.

"Hey. Why do you smell like Tim and Kon?"

Jason just glares at him.

"And you smell like..." the kid takes a deep sniff and makes a face, and Jason feels offended. Kon _likes_ the way he smells.

"Eeeeeew! Why do you smell like Tim and Kon and _sex?!_ "

And suddenly, Jason's day takes a turn for the better. There's really nothing he likes more than corrupting the youth. Well, maybe a good murder or two, but barring that. So he grins, and leans in like he's sharing a deep secret, and says, "You mean you don't _know_?"

xxx

At first, Tim was happy that Jason seemed to be enjoying himself. But then he started to worry, because Jason had been talking to Gar for an awfully long time. And Gar was making a suspicious array of facial expressions. And then Miss M went over, and Jason started talking to _her_ , and really Jason just looked far too pleased with himself. It can't mean anything good.

So he made his way over to them, and heard Jason say something about "...And that's why being in the middle is actually the best..." and Gar went red, and Tim needed to be over there right now.

Before he can even say anything, Miss M turned to him and said, "He is explaining the mating customs of your people. I have been confused about this for quite some time."

Tim couldn’t decide whether to be furious or horrified. In the interest of sanity, he just threw up his hands and walked away.


End file.
